"Man Of This Moment"

In honor of National Poetry Month, I will be posting work by myself each Friday; here is a recent poem, "Man Of This Moment."

Man Of This Moment

His compass points in all directions.
The daytime is gilded in sun light but the sky is dark
with dots of sprinkled stars and a humming moon.

He was never good with spoken words but now
he yearns to tell someone
and transmit to them everything.
His silence is no longer ruminative.

The wind tickles the tall grass, he walks across these
open fields edged by slim, velvety trees,
carrying a large black and white cat who tells him
stories of comfort, of times gone by.
He likes the companionship.
He has lost his distrust of all people,
there is no need for it now.
If he came across another, he would
look at them with the sense of a
blank paper, free of marks or notes.

His thinning hair, his frame no longer thin
like when he was in high school, his letterman jacket
in black and red leather, snug and small, a warm
fuzzy knight on the breast.
He is flexible.

He is waiting for the meteors.
He feels as though he just saw them
but here they come again.

©JEF